Page 23 of Fanged Desire
Hunter didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Every inch of her body was tense, coiled like a predator ready to strike, waitingfor whoever was approaching to pass us by. I couldn’t see much from where we were tucked away, but I could hear the footsteps – slow and shambling, too close for comfort.
But it wasn’t the fear or the rush of adrenaline that left me breathless in her arms. It was the way my body reacted to her, the impossible strength of her grip around my waist, her hand still covering my mouth.
I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. I wasn’t supposed to notice how good she smelled – like rich leather and something more inconspicuous but comfortingly familiar, like rain in the city. I definitely wasn’t supposed to feel the flicker of arousal curling low in my stomach, making my breath hitch against her palm.
Hunter shifted slightly and my pulse quickened, a small gasp muffled against her hand. As the footsteps grew louder her arm around my stomach tightened, and the strength in that small gesture sent a strange thrill reverberating through my body.
The footsteps grew louder still, and then they passed. Whoever it was, they didn’t notice us tucked away in the shadows, and after a moment the sound faded down the hall.
Hunter held us still for another heartbeat, just to be safe, before slowly lowering her hand from my mouth. Her arm unwrapped from my waist and I exhaled a shaky breath, not trusting myself to look at her right away.
“You good?” Her voice was a whisper, low and close to my ear.
I nodded, grateful for the dim light hiding the heat creeping into my face. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”
Hunter’s hand brushed my own as she stepped back and I jerked away, giving her a wide berth as I forcibly willed myself to get it together.
From the shadows she gave me a small, knowing smirk, clearly enjoying the effect she had on me. “Didn’t know you were so jumpy.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden unsteady tremble in my knees. “I’m not jumpy. You just–” I stopped, realizing there was no good way to finish that sentence without sounding ridiculous. “You surprised me.”
“Well, I’m terribly sorry for startling you,” she drawled, still smirking, charlatan eyes flickering in the darkness like she knew exactly what was running through my mind.
I huffed, turning on my heel to lead the way again, though my heart was still pounding a little too fast for my liking. “Come on, let’s just get this over with.”
Hunter chuckled quietly behind me, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. I did my best to ignore it, focusing instead on the task ahead.
My heels echoed in the hallway, sharp taps that synchronized with Hunter's, lending a disconcerting rhythm to our so-called stealth mission. The corridor seemed to stretch forever as we approached the manager's office, a dingy room I hadn't set foot in since my first day at Micere.
My hands were slightly trembling, betraying my nervousness, but I managed to steady myself enough to handle the door. It clicked open after a moment of fumbling, and Hunter slipped inside first, scanning the room before gesturing for me to follow.
The office was quiet, the soft hum of electronics the only sound in the cramped space. I stepped in and shut the door behind us. Hunter was already at the computer with her attention fixed on the screen displaying various angles of the club. Through one of the grainy feeds I could see Ethan, hand on hip, casually chatting up one of the bouncers who had unknowingly passed us by.
"Okay," Hunter murmured, sliding into the swivel chair with a grace that made even the simplest movements seem deliberate. "Let's see what we've got."
I hovered behind her, wracked nerves apparent in my voice as I glanced toward the door. "Will this even work? What if there's a password or something?"
"Relax.” Hunter cast a curious glance over my wringing hands, tossing dark hair over her shoulder before returning her attention to the screen. “It’ll work."
A few tense moments passed as she clacked at the keyboard and I peered over her shoulder, trying to make sense of the glowing pixels. "Didn’t know you were a hackerman."
"I’m not," Hunter responded casually as the computer prompted for a password. Without hesitation, she typed in an answer, 69, and just like clockwork the system unlocked. "Your boss is just predictable."
On the screen, the camera feeds flitted between old shots, and I watched my assailants circling me from a new angle. That alone left a pit in my stomach, but when Hunter showed up on the feed, blinking into existence where she hadn’t been a moment ago, she quickly cut the video, shooting me a side-eye that dared me to comment.
I just stared back, biting my lip. Whatever she had done out there, whatever she’d done to those men, she didn’t want anyone looking into it. Not even me.
Standing at her back while she flicked through the footage, Hunter seemed all too human. Her collar was ruffled, and I could see the faint outline of her bra strap through the thin fabric of her shirt. Her hair bunched over her shoulders in shaggy waves and her foot tapped an impatient tempo on the tiled floor. She dressed human, she acted human, but her earlier display of strength suggested otherwise.
"It’s all here." Hunter interrupted my thoughts as she rifled through the manager's desk and pulled out a flash drive from one of the disorderly drawers. "This footage goes back months.If your sister was hanging around Micere, she’ll definitely show up on here."
She plugged in the flash drive, selecting a hefty number of files before initiating the download. The chair creaked as she settled back, watching the progress bar like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. I couldn't mimic her calm, my own nerves fraying as I stood rigid, every faint sound from the hallway sending my heart into overdrive.
Hunter clicked another tab open, casually flipping through the live feeds while we waited, and with nothing better to do I leaned in closer to get a better look. My arm brushed against her shoulder and the proximity sent another unwanted shiver down my spine. I tried to focus on the screen, but my attention was divided between the flickering pixels and the beguiling warmth emanating from the woman beside me.
“Oh my god!” Hunter’s evil snicker caught me off guard and I glanced at her, startled, before following her gaze to the footage on screen.
From one of the cameras dotted around the club, we watched one of the bartenders mixing a drink, seemingly routine until he surreptitiously spat into the glass just before serving it to a fancy-looking red-headed man sitting at the bar.
